Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from El Salvador and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Mark Hollis to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Quando Quango. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
The Doobie Brothers,
8 Eyed Spy,
Popol Vuh,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Erasure,
New York Dolls,
Loose Ends,
T. Rex,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Birthday Party,
Girls At Our Best!,
Liliput,
Bill Near,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rakim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Underground Resistance,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Fugazi,
The Music Machine,
Alphaville,
The Star Department,
John Lydon,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Matthew Bourne,
These Immortal Souls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Amon Düül II,
Audionom,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Al Stewart,
Deakin,
Echospace,
Harry Pussy,
Smog,
Pere Ubu,
Au Pairs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Desert Stars,
Skriet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marc Almond,
Icehouse,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Raincoats,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Panda Bear,
Yusef Lateef,
The Walker Brothers,
The Gap Band,
Faust,
Barrington Levy,
The Zeros,
Eddi Front,
FM Einheit,
Young Marble Giants,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna, Althea and Donna.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.